And Baby Makes Three Or Five
by genvessel
Summary: When you look back, it's really the snapshots that you remember. The seasons and breaths of love that you live in.


**Title: **And Baby Makes Three… Or Five…

**Pairing**: Troypay

**Summary:** How do you measure a life? In moments. Snapshots of love along the journey.

**Author Note**: It's random and it jumps and that's the point. There may be days or hours or years in between the chapters... I'm just offering up snapshots here...

And PS - my nephew was born today… so this was written waiting in the waiting room for his arrival!

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Married?"

I nodded and sipped my coffee.

"I'm sorry, you want to get married?"

"Sharpay, why not?"

"You expect me to agree to a proposal that's given at 3 in the afternoon at a Starbucks? When I'm wearing your sweatpants? Are you insane?"

"So you're saying that you're not opposed to getting married, you're just opposed to how I'm asking."

She rolled her eyes, "Do you not know me at all?"

"I'm just clarifying," I said after a short pause. "Hypothetically, if sometime in the near future, I were to ask properly, I would get a fairly positive response?"

"If you give me advance notice, I might even put on your favorite lingerie."

"Good to know."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"TRIPLETS?!"

I flinched as my wife bellowed at the OB.

"Yes, Mrs. Bolton, there are three distinct bodies in there," the kindly doctor assured her.

I felt Sharpay's hand clamp down on mine. It stayed there until the doctor finished his exam and made his way out of the room. "Troy," she whispered in a panic. "We CANNOT have triplets."

"Well, obviously we can, dear," I replied.

Okay, obviously not the best response as I've now lost circulation in my hand. And possibly all of my bones.

"Troy, I'm serious."

"And so am I!"

She threw me a look and got up off of the table. "Troy, we have only been married for two and a half years! There is no way that we are ready to have triplets!"

"Because more years of marriage makes you more ready to raise multiple children?"

"No, but if we were more financially stable…"

"Sharpay, seriously…"

"What?" she snapped.

I grinned at her and wrapped my arms around her ever-expanding waist. "We are going to be parents."

"We've known that for a while, Troy. What we're establishing today is that triplets were not in the plan," Sharpay argued, trying to wrangle herself out of my arms.

I held fast. "Sharpay, we are going to be parents." I stared her down.

She held the eye contact for a few moments and finally sighed a deep sigh. "But triplets?"

"Triplets." I nodded.

She giggled a little and kissed me. I tickled her stomach as I disconnected.

"Now, get dressed. I'm taking my family out for dinner."

"Oh, look at the big man, being the bread winner and all," she teased.

"That's right, I am the man," I said in a false-deep voice.

"So where are we going, big breadwinner?"

"I was thinking Jason's Deli."

"Ooooooh! Pulling out the big bucks!"

I cocked an eyebrow, "Don't under estimate me, Mrs. Bolton. Nothing but the best $6 salad bar in town for my family."

She laughed.

The laugh of the mother of my children is the most magical sound in the world.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"You son of a fucking bitch!"

"Sharpay, you're going to need to push."

"I am fucking pushing! What do you think I'm doing? Having a mai tai and fucking the pool boy?"

"Sharpay, I love you,"

"I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU RIGHT NOW!"

The orderly calmly turned to me, "Sir, perhaps you want to wait out side until this round of contractions slow down."

I sighed and looked once more at my wife – who glared at me – and then made my way out of the room.

This is not quite what I was expecting.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"TROY!"

I could not hear myself think over all of the screaming.

"What, Sharpay?"

Oh, I did not mean to snap like that.

Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "They just will not shut up."

She made a sympathetic face and grabbed Izzy out of her chair. She started bouncing our daughter on her hip and made her way back to the kitchen. Two was so much more manageable than three.

"Okay, boys," I said to my sons. "We're going to eat. I know that food is not on your top priority list, but today, it is. You hear me?"

Screeching and laughing and more throwing Cheerios at me.

Fabulous.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Mommy, I don't want to be in the same class as Colin and Josh," five-year-old Isabella whined.

"Well, that's a darn shame, little missy. You are and that's final," Sharpay was done reasoning with a kindergartener.

I looked up from the piles of papers I had scattered all over the kitchen table. We had been having this argument for at least two weeks, if not all summer. Izzy was totally excited to start school, Colin was indifferent, and Josh was very concerned that it would interfere with his play time. They were so different and yet ridiculously the same. It constantly amazed me.

But what Izzy wanted more than anything in the world right now was to not be lumped in with her brothers. She had been their tagalong friend for too long.

"Fine," Izzy crossed her arms and huffed off.

Sharpay sighed and I chucked.

"What?" she snapped.

"Izzy's just a piece of work."

"Our daughter is definitely something," she agreed, chopping the carrots even harder.

"Maybe the more appropriate phrase is 'drama queen'?"

She turned around faster than anything. "Are you blaming me for her attitude?"

"No more than you blame me for Josh's," I replied, smirking.

She held my eye contact for a beat and then sighed. "You're right."

I got up and crossed the kitchen. Gathering my wife in my arms – I loved how she fit just perfectly – I kissed her neck. "Our children are beautiful, sparking individuals. They've got spunk and personality in spades. And even better, they're starting school next week."

She laughed. "Thank God for kindergarten!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Izzy, don't you dare," I heard my son's voice from upstairs. I paused on the top landing.

"Josh, it's my life, you can't tell me how to live it!"

"I'm your brother and I love you!"

"Well, that's certainly convenient!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

I could hear Izzy sigh loudly. It's a patented Sharpay sigh… she learned it well. "You pull this 'I'm your brother' shit whenever you don't totally agree with what I'm doing, but whenever I need you to just _be _there… you're too busy with your precious soccer team or your precious girlfriend or your precious whatever. Not me. So I'll thank you very much to stay the hell out of my life!"

Doors slamming, feet stomping…

Just a normal day in the Bolton household.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I crunched the numbers again.

It was just not going to be possible.

I could not actually pay for college for my kids.

This was possibly one of the most depressing moments of my life.

"I'm so sorry, Sharpay," I said through choked tears. "I have failed."

She looked at me with a completely perplexed look on her face. "What?"

"I'm supposed to provide! And I haven't! They can't go to college, Shar!"

"Of course they can," she replied. "They'll just have to take out loans. And get jobs. And not waste their money on beer like we did. Our kids are pretty financially responsible – I think we've done a pretty good job of teaching them that. It'll all be okay."

"I just feel…"

She gathered me in her arms and kissed the top of my head. "You do provide. You have always provided. We have never gone without anything that we've needed. And even though we have been married for over twenty years and are getting kind of old… we still have fantastic sex."

I laughed and wiped my eyes.

"We do, don't we."

"I've always felt so."

"Shall we test the theory?"

She checked her watch, "We've got about two hours until prom is over. Plenty of time."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Well, we actually have three children," I replied. I hated these cocktail parties. "They're all seniors in college right now. Josh is at Baylor University in Texas, Isabella is UCLA and Josh is at UNC."

"Wow, they're scattered," the woman remarked. Sharpay continued the conversation and my mind began to wander.

We have been at this benefit for almost three hours. Surely we can leave soon. This was the one part of Sharpay's job as public relations director for the mayor of San Diego that I hated. The hobnobbing. Gross.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket and I checked the caller ID.

"Hey, Shar? Josh is calling," I motioned that I was going to go answer and Sharpay continued the conversation with vapid woman number twelve.

"Joshua, my man, what's up?"

"Dad," my son's voice had no life in it. "It's Izzy."

That's when my world stopped.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"I'm sorry, doctor, what happened?"

"She has a ruptured aneurysm," the young neurosurgeon replied. This guy looks about a week older than Izzy and I'm supposed to believe that he can take care of my kid?

"And that's what caused her to faint?"

He nodded. "It was a slow leak, so there was minimal damage to her brain matter."

"What do you mean, minimal damage?"

"Dad," Colin cut in. "It means that Izzy could have brain damage. There may have been too much blood in her brain for a little while."

Holy hell.

"We're monitoring her condition and as soon as we know more, we'll let you know," the doctor said before walking away.

It had been about twelve hours since I answered that call from Josh. Izzy had been out with a group of friends when she started to complain of a headache. About ten minutes later, she went completely pale and collapsed. Her roommate had called Josh and Colin and they had called us and we all hopped on the first flights to LAX that we possibly could.

And now it was just a waiting game.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"What are we going to do?" Colin looked exhausted. He was busy studying for his MCATs and was now thrown into a real life medical drama.

"We're going to get her the best care humanly possible," Sharpay replied.

"How long until she recognizes us again?" Josh asked quietly.

"The doctor thinks it could be about six weeks of therapy," I answered.

I felt Sharpay slip her hand into mine and squeeze it gently.

"It just feels weird," Colin said. Josh nodded.

"What do you mean, honey?" Sharpay asked.

"It's like part of me has died or something," Colin replied. "If my own triplet can't recognize me…"

"She's not dead," Josh snapped.

"But she has no idea who we were!" Colin snapped back.

"We were just starting to really bond," Josh replied.

I grabbed both of their hands and held fast. "Boys, don't talk like that. You will have plenty of time to continue to bond and to continue to be her brothers and beat up the men that she dates and know each other's spouses and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Right now, she just needs to sleep and let her brain heal."

They both nodded and I saw tears slip down Colin's cheeks. He took a deep breath and motioned to Josh. "Coffee?"

As Sharpay and I watched our boys wander off, she whispered, "How much of that speech was for you?"

"Every last bit of it."

She chucked softly and kissed my temple. "She's going to pull through, you know."

"I know," I said. "You know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because she takes after you and you never give up."

"Damn straight."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Dad, I just don't know…"

"Colin Andrew, listen to me. You and Carolyn? You'll be amazing parents."

He rolled his eyes. "No, Dad, you and Mom are great parents. Me and Carolyn are bumbling idiots."

"Obviously, you've confused your mother and I with the other Troy and Sharpay Bolton," I chuckled.

"Weren't you my age when you had us? How did you handle it all?"

I slapped him gently on the back, "One step at a time, my son. One decision, one step, one moment."

"I guess," he admitted. "We've only been married for four years. I guess I just thought we would have it all more together before she got pregnant."

I laughed. "Colin, can I let you in on a little secret?"

"Sure."

"You will never have it all together. Ever."

"Geez, thanks."

I smiled. "It's actually a pretty freeing truth. Perfection is not possible. If you stop worrying about it, then life gets a lot more fun."

I paused and let that truth sink in. "Now, I'm not saying that excellence is not a goal. I'm just saying that perfection is not possible. Do you get that difference?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do."

I looked over at my grown-up son. I remember the day that Sharpay and I brought him home from the hospital. Him and Josh and Izzy… my precious children. They're twenty-five now. They're fully grown, responsible adults. To think that I had some sort of hand in the productive people they became…

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For?"

"For always letting me not have it all together."

I grinned. "Dude, if you had had it all together, you would have made me look bad. And we can't have that."

He laughed, "Never, Dad. Never."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"It's been five years, Mom."

"Well, the doctor said that it was going to take time," Sharpay said patiently.

Izzy's minor brain damage had done nothing to curve her … personality. "Five years!"

"Just be patient, Izzy," I contributed. I got the glare.

"Dad, I have had a headache every week for five years! Five years!"

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry, but there is literally nothing that I can do about it!" Sharpay replied. "Just keep up the diet. Maybe you drink too much caffeine?"

"Maybe," she admitted.

"How about you cut out Diet Coke for six weeks?" I suggested.

"Dad! That would kill me!"

"Dear, if an aneurysm couldn't kill you, I don't think that a lack of Diet Coke will finish you off."

"Troy!"

"What? It's true!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please?"

The room quieted from a dull roar to a soft din. Josh smiled and squinted into the bright lights.

"My brother and sister and I want to thank you for coming to our parent's fiftieth anniversary party. Before we get to the real fun, which involves a slideshow of all of their various hair styles for the past fifty seven years that they've been together – "

He was interrupted by a ripple of laughter and Sharpay protesting loudly.

"In all seriousness, I was elected to make a few remarks about my amazing and precious parents, Troy and Sharpay Bolton. Both of them hate long speeches almost as much as I hate giving them, so I'll keep this short. You all have stories of your own that you could regale us with and I hope to hear them, especially if they're embarrassing."

Another ripple of laughter. Josh paused appropriately and smiled. He always had been so good at wooing crowds.

"Many years ago, my father gave me the greatest piece of advice that I have ever received. In the midst of one of the darkest seasons of my life, he took me out to our back yard and made me look up at the stars. I was expecting some great _Lion King_-esque moment where he was about to tell me that all I had to do was remember who I was by looking up at the stars and yada yada yada. Instead, he asked me if I remembered all of the times that we used to grill out on Friday nights when I was younger.

"I told him that I totally remembered that. It's one of my favorite memories of my childhood and I know that Colin and Izzy agree. We talked about memories from the various grilling mishaps for a little while and then he finally said, 'You know, Josh, that's what it's really all about.'"

"When I asked him what he was talking about, he told me that life is not about the big moments – the huge, glorious moments of either defeat or glory are not the point. It's the little moments that make up the big picture – those are what mater. It's the long, lingering conversations with friends over coffee and impromptu road trips, family bonding over pizza and trips to the mall with your first girlfriend – those are life. Report cards and speeding tickets. How we live our lives in the little moments that actually matter and that will actually determine how we live our lives in the big moments.

"Then he looked me right in the eye and told me that there was an old Broadway song called 'Seasons of Love' that concludes that you measure your life in love. The 525,600 minutes that make up a year are not the measurement you go by. You should measure your life in how much love you gave and how much you received. You should live your life to love and serve others.

"He then reminded me that if love is the goal, perfectionism is not an option. Failure is allowed and grace is given. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder that night and said, 'Measure you life in love, son. That's all we ask.'"

There were tears streaming down my face. I felt Sharpay's familiar hand slip into mine and saw her tears out of the corner of my eye. Our son turned slightly to face us and concluded his speech.

"Mom, Dad, you have done that. You have always taught us to love and to be loved. And in doing so, you have taught us to teach others. From the thousands of people who have been affected by your love, I want to say thank you. Thank you for allowing us to find our own ways and to make our own mistakes. For giving us both roots and wings. For knowing the hairs on our heads and scars on our hearts. For measuring our lives in love."

I was basically fully on sobbing now. Where did this kid come from? Because I certainly didn't raise this incredible man before me. Holy cow.

He turned to face the audience and raised a glass, "To Troy and Sharpay. May their seasons of love extend for many moons."

"To Troy and Sharpay!"

As the cheers rang out throughout the banquet hall, I turned and captured the lips of my bride of fifty years, remembering the snapshots of love and life along the journey and how I just had to always make sure that I asked properly.


End file.
